


Tumbled From My Lips (The Easy Like Sunday Morning Remix)

by Lyss2011



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Camelot Remix, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Modern Era, Nonbinary Character, Queer Themes, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyss2011/pseuds/Lyss2011
Summary: Arthur had allowed himself to forget that they weren’t actually dating, building the lie around them like the oversized jumpers Merlin always wore, soft and comforting, as they cuddled up on the couch. Luckily, before his mouth could suggest something even more romantic-sounding, like kissing, Mordred texted him about their next date.Or, Arthur’s (failed) attempt to get over Merlin.





	Tumbled From My Lips (The Easy Like Sunday Morning Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlantedKnitting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlantedKnitting/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Practically Boyfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700556) by [SlantedKnitting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlantedKnitting/pseuds/SlantedKnitting). 



> SlantedKnitting, it was a privilege to be able to remix one of your fics. _Practically Boyfriends_ gives me such a feeling of peace and community every time I read it, and if I can give someone even a quarter of that feeling with this fic, I'll be thrilled.
> 
> Many thanks to Blake!! Mistakes and Americanisms are mine, and some of the dialogue is SlantedKnitting's.
> 
>  
> 
> Please see the end for other warnings and tags!

** OCTOBER **

Arthur’s mouth staged a coup in early October. It wasn’t the first time his mouth had said something he didn’t tell it to, not by far, but in the past few weeks it had really gotten out of control. 

The first sign was when he’d been on a date about two weeks back, and had agreed to another date for when he came back from his business trip to Johannesburg. It wasn’t a terrible thing to agree to by any measure: Mordred was perfectly nice and Arthur had had fun on their first date. The problem was that the date itself was the result of a bet from Morgana: “Go on a date, a real date, and just talk with this guy. And then come back and tell me to my face that Merlin’s not basically your boyfriend.” 

He won the bet, of course, because Merlin _wasn’t_ his boyfriend, and probably never would be. By some mutual unspoken agreement, they had never tried it, and now it was too late. If things went south, as Arthur's relationships tended to, he would lose his friendship with Merlin, and that wasn't something he was willing to risk. 

The second sign was during his business trip. Sophia had been flirting with him again, and he couldn’t think of something – anything – to keep her away. Arthur had originally supposed this to be the fault of his brain for not thinking of anything better, like ‘I’m gay!’, but in retrospect it was just another sign his mouth had mutinied. In some respects, it was a relief to know that his brain wasn’t at fault. He was an important HIV/AIDS research manager, and his brain should have been sharp enough to think of excuses better than ‘my kid is sick and my wife is really getting overwhelmed’ to get out of an uncomfortable situation. Especially when Leon was just across the room and would hold this moment over him _forever_.

All of this led to the most damning bit of evidence, when his mouth told Merlin he was Arthur’s favourite person. Which, in defense of his mouth, wasn’t a lie. He _had_ come straight from the airport to Merlin’s flat to relax and unwind in the face of his cowardly retreat from South Africa. And Merlin _was_ giving him an amazing backrub at the time. But he couldn’t just _say_ these things. 

Then, his mouth had gone one step further, suggesting that they both place one of the South African temporary tattoos he'd gifted Merlin directly over their hearts. He would have loved to blame his mouth for the fact that as they pressed his tattoo in place, his gaze caught Merlin's, and his heart beat faster at the warm pressure of Merlin's hand against his bare chest. He also couldn't blame his mouth for the few extra seconds he took to position the tattoo against Merlin's chest before pressing the damp flannel against his pale skin. 

_That_ was all his heart’s fault. 

It was a dangerous business, sticking temporary tattoos on your mate's chest. There should be warnings printed on the package, Arthur thought, below the instructions. _Step 4: Apply pressure to the wet flannel over the tattoo for approximately one minute. Caution: Applying a tattoo to others may lead to increased heart rate, a spreading feeling of warmth at the point of contact, and/or may cause the participants to get lost in each other's eyes._ Of course, the directions on the package he'd bought for Merlin were written in Afrikaans, so for all he knew, the tattoos did come with such a warning.

So he allowed himself, for an hour or so, to forget that they weren’t actually dating. He built the lie around them like the oversized jumpers Merlin always wore, soft and comforting, as they cuddled up on the couch, half-watching Hercule Poirot solve a mystery while they ate hummus and veg. It could be like this every night of the week.

Luckily, before his mouth could suggest something even more romantic-sounding, like kissing, Mordred texted him. 

_**hey :) wanna go out again when you get back?** _

**Sure** , he texted back with a strange ache in his chest. Never let it be said that a Pendragon broke their promises. **Friday after work?**

 _ **Kk :)**_ came the quick response. Arthur stared at it for a moment before slipping his mobile back into his pocket and scrubbing his face with his hands. What was the point in going on this date when all he wanted was the man sitting next to him?

“Everything okay?” Merlin asked in concern. 

“Yeah.” He searched for a reasonable excuse, something that didn’t make him feel irrationally guilty of cheating on Merlin. “Just a little jet lagged.”

“I thought it was only an hour’s difference.” 

“Shush,” Arthur tried to knock Merlin over with a bump to his shoulder, but he bounced back, tucking his knees up into his chest inside his jumper and looking over at him curiously. 

“Who texted? Your dad?”

“No, uh...a guy I took to dinner before I left.” And whose existence he’d forgotten in favor of cuddling with Merlin. Arthur felt suddenly exposed and realized he was still shirtless from applying the tattoo. 

“Oh.” Was Arthur imagining the sadness in Merlin’s voice? Probably. “Is he cute?”

Arthur shrugged as he pulled his undershirt back on. “He’s – yeah. I don’t know. I haven’t really decided yet.”

“You usually decide faster than that.”

“Yeah.” _Usually they don’t look like you._ With his undershirt back on and his mindset corrected regarding who he was and was not dating, Arthur resumed his former position with an arm stretched behind Merlin’s back. “Sometimes, I feel like I’ve already been with every man in this city and now I’m just...sifting through the leftovers or something.” 

“That sounds really romantic,” Merlin remarked sarcastically. 

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, that’s me, the romantic.”

Merlin rolled his eyes in response and turned to watch Poirot twirl his mustache, but Arthur couldn’t focus on the telly. This was his chance to find out once and for all if he had any chance with Merlin. If not, he would simply move on, focus on Mordred. It was just a crush, after all.

“How about you, do you ever think about dating again?”

Merlin turned, resting his cheek on top of his jumper-covered knees and looked at Arthur with solemn eyes. “Sometimes.” 

“Yeah? Why don’t you? How long’s it been since Freya?” Merlin and Freya had dated for almost two years before she moved back to Scotland for her job. Arthur knew it had been rocky towards the end, and they’d tried something like what Leon and Percy had with their girlfriend. It hadn’t worked for Merlin and Freya.

“Two...two and a half years, maybe. Sometimes I think my best option is probably to find another asexual person to date but...I don’t know. I haven’t put much effort into finding anyone. Most of the other aces I’ve met haven’t caught my attention, you know? I guess I’m a sucker for the forbidden fruit.” 

Arthur supposed he was too, in that case. 

“Percy doesn’t do it for you?” he teased, trying to keep the conversation going. 

Merlin’s expression was sad and introspective. “Percy is very much taken, as you well know.” 

Arthur knocked his shoulder against Merlin’s gently, and assured him, “You’ll find someone.”

Merlin shrugged. “Maybe. I’m trying to come around to the idea of it never happening. I don’t mind being alone, you know?”

“You’re not alone,” Arthur reminded him.

“You know what I mean.”

“But…” Arthur felt like he was pulling at straws. As much as he'd told himself he would back off if Merlin wasn't interested, he didn’t want Merlin to give up on relationships completely. “Who’s going to wipe your drool when you’re old and incompetent? Incontinent, even?”

“Arthur Pendragon," Merlin's mouth twisted into a small smile. "Asking the real questions since 1922.”

“What?” That would make him… “Why did you just decide I’m 94 years old?”

Merlin laughed. “I just like it when you do fast math.” 

“Now there’s a weird fetish.”

Merlin kicked him. 

“Sorry,” he grinned. “You’re too easy sometimes.”

“I am in no way easy,” Merlin said defensively. 

“You are easy like Sunday morning.”

And there it was again, his traitorous mouth saying things that he had not given it permission to say. He got to his feet and stretched, his back still stiff after the cramped eleven hour flight and a few hours' nap on Merlin's couch. “I should get home. Thanks for the company.”

“Thanks for the tattoos. You coming to the fair on Saturday? I’m setting up a table with Gwen to sell some gloves. Better get there early if you’re interested – I’ve only got about fifteen pairs.”

“Fifteen?” he gasped dramatically. “You’ve been slacking. Fifteen pairs of hand-made gloves? Ridiculous!” Merlin elbowed him out into the hallway. “I’m supposed to go out Friday night, but I’ll try to get there before you sell out. What’s Gwen got?”

“Hats, I think,” Merlin replied, leaning against the door jamb. “Maybe some scarves if she’s not saving them for December.” 

“Remind me about the December one when I’m not jet lagged and I’ll whip something up.” Arthur just didn't have it in him to be pleasant to strangers anymore this week.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You’re not jet lagged.”

“How dare you contradict me.” Arthur pulled him in for a long hug, breathing in Merlin's comforting presence before whispering, “Good night, Merlin,” in his ear.

“Night, Arthur.”

Arthur walked home slowly, feeling every bit of his imaginary jetlag, his suitcase wheels loud in the silence of the night. When he got home, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror and took off his shirt and undershirt. He pressed a hand over the temporary tattoo on his chest, trying to feel the ghost warmth of Merlin’s hand under his own as they transferred the tattoo to his skin. 

He closed his eyes, pictured Merlin staring back at him as he had been earlier, and let his traitorous mouth speak. 

“God, you're beautiful. I wish I could come home to you all the time. I wish we could snuggle up after a long day at work, and I could run my fingers through your soft, soft hair. I wish I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

 _That sounds a lot like dating, Arthur_ , phantom Merlin responded from the backs of his eyelids. _And I think about dating sometimes but no one's caught my eye. I might never date again._

\--

The date with Mordred was a bit awkward at first; Arthur suspected neither of them were good at small talk, and it had been a few weeks since their first date. 

“How was your trip?” Mordred asked after they ordered their food. 

“It was good, very productive.”

“Remind me what you do again? Some kind of AIDS research?”

“Yeah, I actually oversee several different projects, so it’s not as hands-on as actual research. Mostly I’m a go between, taking the research our people do and telling the bigwigs how that research will impact them. We have a few labs in Johannesburg that we visit every few months to see how they’re progressing, so next week I have a meeting with my bosses to explain the promising results they presented to me.”

“Do you like it?”

Arthur took a sip of his wine. “I miss being in the lab all day, making discoveries and breakthroughs myself, but this way I get firsthand knowledge about a lot of different projects and I can kind of piece them together, offer suggestions, that kind of thing. Plus, I can provide people I know with new trials that I think are the most promising based on the research I’ve seen,” he added, thinking of the new trial he’d just started Elyan on. 

“And you get to travel,” Mordred added. “What’s there to do in Johannesburg?”

“I don’t really know. I never go for the sightseeing, just all day meetings and schmoozing over dinners.”

“Why don’t you? Sightsee, I mean.”

Arthur opened his mouth, only to close it again, swallowing the answer. He was taking control over his mouth, dammit. “I don’t know. Too much work to do, usually. We fly in, work, and fly back.” He took another sip of his wine. “What about you? Have you travelled much?”

“Not as much as I’d like. It’s my dream to travel to India to learn how to make a curry.” Mordred blushed attractively, fiddling with his wine glass. 

The waiter came then, setting down their food, and it was a few minutes before Arthur asked, “So you enjoy cooking then?” They hadn’t touched on Mordred’s hobbies much on their first date.

“Yes,” Mordred said, and his eyes lit up. “I love combining ingredients and trying new flavours. Like, the first time I tried making a curry? It was nothing like curry I’d had before, but it was still good and I realized I could experiment with the spices and make my own recipes.”

“Huh,” Arthur said. “It’s almost the opposite for me and baking. I like that I can follow the recipe and if I do it properly, it’ll come out the way I want it to.”

“Cooking is the same way, you know,” Mordred grinned at him.

“Yes, but, baking is more scientific. There’s not as much room to deviate from the recipe.” He shrugged. “It’s calming.”

“But aren’t you a scientist? Doesn’t thinking of baking as science make it more like work?”

“Mmm.” Arthur finished chewing and took a sip of water before answering. “Baking is almost mindless for me. There’s no pressure, no worries that it’ll blow up in your face or have an adverse effect on a subject, no matter what my sister says sometimes,” he grinned. “The worst case scenario is that it needs to be shoved in the garbage or unstuck from the bottom of the oven.”

“Ah,” Mordred nodded. “I’ve had some of those. My earlier cooking experiences were all disastrous, and even now some of my experiments go awry.”

“Experiments!” Arthur exclaimed. “You know that makes it even more science-y than baking?”

“Oh please,” Mordred shot back. “Like you never experimented with your baking ingredients? Applesauce for oil and all that?”

“Yes, but all of my experiments were delicious.”

Mordred’s eyebrows raised. “Not according to your sister, apparently.”

“And what about your experiments? Who did you get to taste them?”

“Myself and my friends, mostly. Luckily for them, I’m a lot better of a cook now than I was when I started. God, one time I tried to make paella…” Mordred smiled and shook his head. “You’re supposed to toast the rice first and then add broth to let the rice cook and give it flavor. Except I was cutting an onion and completely forgot and the rice was so, so burnt. Like, fire alarm levels of burnt. I started over, but it still tasted burnt in the end because I hadn’t cleaned the pan out well enough. But they still ate it.”

“They sound like good friends.”

“Yeah they are. But I’m sure you’ve made your friends eat questionable things too, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Arthur grinned. “One time I tried to be fancy and clever and made two batches of cupcakes simultaneously, a mint and a pistachio. You can already see the problem. They were both green, and I of course had paired specific frostings to go with them, chocolate for the mint and cream cheese for the pistachio.”

“Oh my god,” Mordred said, giggling.

“It was my friend Leon’s birthday, and everyone was excited for these special cupcakes he’d requested. Luckily the pistachio with the chocolate frosting was edible, but Leon had been looking forward to the mint. I felt really bad, and had to go buy him a cupcake the next day, because he refused to eat anymore of my cupcakes for the following year.”

“Dessert, gentlemen?” the waiter asked, suddenly appearing at their table. 

Mordred looked at Arthur questioningly. 

“I have some desserts at home if you want to come over,” Arthur offered. 

Mordred grinned. “As long as they aren’t green cupcakes. Just the check then, please,” he added to the waiter.

Back at Arthur’s, Arthur pointed out the cookies on the counter. “Later,” Mordred said, crowding Arthur back against the door. “I was thinking we could have a different kind of dessert first.”

Arthur grinned and kissed him, untucking Mordred’s button-down and searching for the warm, smooth skin of his hips. 

Before he knew it, his and Mordred’s shirts were off, and Mordred was pulling Arthur’s undershirt over his head. He leaned forwards again to recapture Mordred’s mouth but Mordred stopped him, staring at his chest.

“What?” he asked, feeling self-conscious. He sucked in his stomach, wondering if in the recent stress of the trip, he’d somehow gotten fat. He hadn’t had as much time to work out lately, but he hadn’t felt bad when he looked in the mirror earlier. Then again, he’d just eaten a large dinner. 

Mordred’s voice cut through his racing thoughts. “I just – this tattoo. It’s kind of terrifying. I didn’t peg you as someone who had tattoos.”

Arthur laughed, relieved. “This one’s temporary. I brought my friend Merlin some South African mythological tattoos and he let me have this one. I do have a real one on my back though, her name is Lucy.” He turned around, showing Mordred the angry red dragon that stretched from shoulder to shoulder. 

“Wow,” Mordred breathed, skimming his fingers almost reverently along the lines of Lucy’s wings on his right shoulder blade. It did nothing to alleviate Arthur’s erection and he reached back to pull Mordred flush against him, a not-so-subtle hint to _get on with it already._

\--

The next morning at breakfast, Arthur invited Mordred to the fair with him. “Most of my friends will be there. Merlin, Gwen and Lance will have a table to sell their knitting and stuff. I usually have a table with some of my baked goods, but with my recent trip I didn’t have enough time.” 

When they found Merlin and Gwen’s table, Merlin was gone and Gwaine was in his place. Gwen rounded the table immediately in order to introduce herself and kiss Arthur on the cheek before running off to get some coffee for her and Lance, who was with a client. 

They decided to wait for Merlin to return, so while Gwaine started a conversation with Mordred, Arthur scrolled through Merlin’s playlist for any songs he recognized from Merlin’s latest airplane playlists. Merlin had some weird songs on there, as always, but Arthur found one he liked and set it to the top of the order.

“Leon and Percy are over at the mac ‘n cheese food truck with their new girlfriend,” Merlin said, coming up behind him. “I think they want to introduce her around.”

Arthur set down the phone and craned his neck to see Percy’s imposing figure near the food trucks. “I’ll find them later. Merlin, this is Mordred.”

The two men shook hands and stiffly introduced themselves. Merlin’s smile seemed particularly forced, and he almost immediately sat down behind his table rather than standing to continue their conversation. Was he jealous? No, it couldn’t be, he’d all but said he wasn’t interested a few days ago. Maybe it was just general loneliness; he had just met Leon and Percy’s new girlfriend, and now he was meeting Arthur’s new boyfriend. 

Mordred, not knowing Merlin as well as Arthur did, continued the conversation as normal. “Did you really make these?” Mordred asked, examining a pair of gloves.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied absently, his eyes flickering between Mordred and Arthur with an expression Arthur couldn’t understand. 

“That’s brilliant, it’s a perfect fit,” Mordred said, trying one on. “Can I buy these?”

“Obviously,” Merlin stated rather sharply, before catching himself and smiling across the table. “Do you want a tarot reading for an extra £5?”

“Go on,” Arthur urged, seeing the indecision on Mordred’s face. “I’ll cover the reading – Lance is really good. We can do it together.” After all, he needed to know if this thing between them was going to work, long term. If he was really making the right decision, trying to get over Merlin. 

“Hi Lance,” Arthur said, kissing Lance on the cheek in greeting. “This is Mordred.”

“Nice to meet you.” They shook hands. “Now,” Lance continued, getting right down to business, “while I shuffle the cards I want you to start thinking about the question you want to ask. It’s very important that you think about it as you pick the first card.”

“I want to know how our relationship will go,” Mordred said. 

Lance nodded and spread all of the cards out in a circle. 

“Why don’t you pick the one you feel drawn to?”

Mordred turned over a card titled _The Moon_. 

“Great!” Lance said. “Now, Arthur, why don’t you shuffle these cards around and stack them back up for me? Remember to keep thinking about your relationship as you shuffle.”

Arthur did as instructed, focusing on his relationship with Mordred and the bigger question of _is this right_.

“Have you ever had a tarot reading before?” Lance asked Mordred. Lance had given Arthur a few over the years, and he was familiar with the process by now. 

“No, I haven’t.”

“Okay so first of all, for this spread the position and order of the cards have certain meanings that I’ll explain as we go. _The Moon_ in this position means you or Arthur are projecting fear from your past onto your present and future. For example, if either of you have been burned in relationships before, that’s affecting the way you view your relationship.”

Mordred nodded. “That makes sense. Our past experiences shape our worldview.”

“Exactly. This can be a problem, though, if say you’ve been cheated on in the past, you could be projecting those behaviors on Arthur and it could create problems between the two of you where none exist. _The Moon_ also tells us that your intuition is going to be important in your relationship; be careful of fast decisions and go with your gut.

“Now, we’ll look at the card in position two, which represents what you most want from your relationship.” Lance flipped over the top card from the deck Arthur had shuffled.

“ _Temperance_ ,” Lance read aloud. “You’re seeking balance and moderation from your relationship, something that may have been missing in the past.” Lance’s gaze flicked to Arthur as he said this. Arthur knew his past relationships had been more about sex than companionship, but he’d never cared enough to try with them. He’d had enough companionship with Merlin, and hadn’t needed anything more. 

“ _Temperance_ is about bringing people together in harmony, working together despite differing skills and abilities,” Lance continued. “It shows that you want to take control of your future, and that you’re looking ahead to the long-term. It’s a good goal to have when starting a new relationship.” Lance smiled at them. “Any questions so far?”

Mordred grabbed Arthur’s hand and interlocked their fingers. “No, this all makes a lot of sense. I’m glad we’re doing this.” 

Lance turned over the next card. “ _The Hermit_ ,” he read. “The card in this position is all about your fears. Notice that this one is upside down compared to the others that we’ve already seen. It has a slightly different meaning here, in that you’re afraid of loneliness and isolation. For relationships this card can be particularly tricky: one meaning here is that one person in the relationship is more invested, or it can be that you’re afraid of being alone and you’re doing anything possible to avoid that.”

Gwen came over then to drop off a coffee and kiss for Lance, her eyes quickly glancing over the cards before she returned to her seat next to Merlin at the front table.

“So I’ll let you both reflect on that. It can apply to one or both of you, since as we know it takes two people to make a relationship work.” He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “Are we ready to continue?”

Arthur nodded, staring at the hermit and their lantern on the card in front of him. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowledge that he was going to be the less invested partner, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had to get over Merlin, and it was still early in his relationship with Mordred. Who knew what would happen?

“The fourth card shows what you have going for you in this relationship, what forces are on your side.” Lance turned the card over and placed it above _Temperance. “Justice_ ,” he read, “is about searching for the truth, fairness, and the law. In this placement, it shows a period of good luck even if you don’t know why. That doesn’t follow that the relationship as a whole will be fair, because the next card is going to show what’s going against you.”

Lance took another sip of his coffee and then flipped over the next card, placing it below _Temperance_. “Hm,” he said, almost to himself. “So _The Tower_ is in opposition to Justice.” He looked up at Arthur and Mordred. “It means that something unexpected will happen, and because it’s working against you, it won’t be something good. The symbolism of the tower drawn on the card here is that it’s a well-built tower built on unstable ground or something, and one event has it all crashing down. Not, uh, great symbolism for a relationship.”

Mordred’s forehead was creased as he looked down at the cards, and Arthur held in a sigh. It looked as if Mordred was already trying to find a way to get around this now-forseen difficulty they had yet to encounter. Arthur wondered idly how many relationships Mordred had been in before him. 

It seemed that Lance had seen the look as well, as he continued, “ _But_...it might not necessarily be relationship issues; maybe one of you loses their job, or,” he looked over Arthur’s shoulder, thinking. “Or one of you is hospitalized with a serious illness, or something. The point is that the cards say it will happen, and it will work against the good luck _Justice_ shows. But don’t worry,” he told Mordred. “Because we have one more card left.”

Lance picked up the last card, saying dramatically, “This card represents the outcome according to the question you asked. And it is…” 

Mordred gasped as Lance lay the card down. “ _Death_!” His wide blue eyes flitted between Lance and Arthur, neither of whom were worried in the least. This wasn’t the first time Arthur had been dealt the _Death_ card, and he knew what it meant. 

“It’s not what you think,” he reassured his boyfriend with a squeeze of his hand.

“Arthur’s right,” Lance agreed. “ _Death_ is rarely about the death of a relationship or person. It’s about endings, but also beginnings, a transition or change. For a relationship, it can mean that this will be a transformational time for both of you, a fresh start, if you will. When it’s combined with _The Tower_ , it means that the unexpected thing is inevitable, like death. This change, this new start for both of you is like destiny, which I think is rather exciting, don’t you?” 

Leave it to Lance to bring something as romantic as destiny into a discussion about death, Arthur thought as he smiled at Mordred’s newly hopeful expression. 

“Thank you, Lance,” he said, standing. “You’ve given us a lot to think about, as always. Now, we should be off to try and catch Leon and Percy before they leave, Mordred hasn’t met them yet.”

Arthur waved goodbye to Gwen and Merlin and started off in the direction of the food trucks, his hand still in Mordred’s. 

Arthur spotted them across the food court, two extremely tall men, one using a cane, waiting in the queue for the Thai food truck. 

“Leon!” he called out with a wave of the hand that wasn’t holding Mordred’s.

“Hey Arthur,” he said, walking towards them and leaving Percy to keep his place in line. Leon walked with a cane due to an injury from his time with the British Army, and Arthur could hear Mordred's intake of breath at the sight. He hadn't told Mordred about Leon's injury when he talked about his friend, and he hoped Mordred didn't say anything insensitive. 

“How was the rest of the trip?” Arthur asked, giving Leon a hug.

“It went well,” Leon said. “I’m sure we’ll be discussing it Monday; who’s this?”

Arthur nodded. “This is Mordred. Mordred, Leon, my coworker and best friend.”

“C’mon,” Leon said after they’d shaken hands. “I have someone to introduce you too as well.”

They followed Leon back to where Percy was standing, with a small brown-haired girl that Arthur hadn't noticed before, presumably their new girlfriend. 

“This is Lamia,” Leon said, putting his free arm around the girl’s waist. 

“Hi,” she greeted, shifting her cup of macaroni and cheese to her left hand and sticking her right out for a handshake. "You must be Arthur. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her smile seemed to indicate that she’d specifically heard of his terrible excuse to flee Sophia in Johannesburg. 

“Good things, I hope,” he said with a friendly glare at Leon. 

“Of course,” she dimpled, before turning to Mordred. “Oh, didn’t we meet already? Merlin, was it?”

“Er, no.” Mordred’s fair skin was slowly turning a dark pink, but Arthur didn’t know him well enough to tell if it was embarrassment or anger or some other emotion behind the transformation. 

“No, love," Percy said. "We did see Merlin earlier but this must be Arthur’s new boyfriend…” 

“Mordred,” Mordred said, shaking Percy’s hand. 

“Percy,” Percy responded. “Nice to meet you. Sorry for the confusion, this is Lamia’s first time meeting everyone too, and you have similar coloring to Merlin.”

“Of course,” Mordred said, still blushing. “It’s no problem,” he reassured Lamia, who was very apologetic. 

Despite the rocky start, they managed to have a decent conversation until the group reached the front of the queue. 

“We should go,” Arthur said, glancing at the long line of people behind them. They said their goodbyes quickly before the cashier at the food truck called out for the next person to order.

“Thanks for inviting me, I had a lot of fun,” Mordred told Arthur as they left the fair. “Your friends were all really nice too.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” Arthur responded. “I’m sure they liked you too.” He squeezed Mordred’s hand. “And I’m glad you were free, I really enjoyed hanging out with you.”

“Would you – do you have plans for tomorrow? I was thinking about making chili. You could come over to help and then stay for dinner? I was planning on inviting some of my friends, and then you could get to know them as well.” Mordred was like an excitable puppy, eager for Arthur to meet all his friends. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” he responded.

\--

“So...Mordred, huh?” 

“You’re the least subtle person I’ve met in my entire life,” Arthur grumbled over the phone. 

Gwaine laughed. “You’re not being too subtle yourself, mate.”

“What are you on about?” 

Arthur could practically hear Gwaine’s shrug. “I’m just saying, he seems a lot different from your usual type. Skinnier, a lot less blond, a lot more like a certain someone we know and love.”

“Yeah, I’m trying something – wait, a certain some– _Gwaine_.” Arthur's heart was in his throat. Was his crush on Merlin so obvious?

" _Arthur._ "

"Whatever you're thinking, it's not that."

"How long've you been seeing him?"

Arthur spluttered. "I- I'm not _seeing Merlin!_ "

"Not what I asked, mate," Gwaine said with a grin in his voice. "Mordred. How long have you been seeing him?"

Arthur forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. “The fair was our third date.”

Gwaine whistled lowly, and then, incongruously, “I’m seeing Merlin for church tomorrow morning, maybe I could casually mention it to him?”

Arthur pulled his mobile away from his ear and frowned at it. “I think I might’ve missed part of what you said. Mention what to Merlin?” _Not my crush not my crush_ he thought to himself. 

Instead of telling him, Gwaine just sighed and said, “Nevermind." He paused and then added, "You two are my best friends, you know? I just want to see you both happy." 

Arthur nodded, even though Gwaine couldn't see him. "I know."

"Well you make it bloody difficult," Gwaine huffed. "I have to go; later, mate.”

Whatever Gwaine was going to mention to Merlin, he must not have, because Arthur didn’t hear any more about it from either of them. His relationship with Mordred was going well; Mordred was always eager to spend time with him, and they spent countless hours in both of their kitchens. True, it was sometimes too much for Arthur, but then again he’d never really been in a ‘real’ relationship before, so he figured it was par for the course. And when he found himself missing Merlin, who he’d barely seen since the fair, he reminded himself that he was trying to get over him, and it was probably better that they didn’t see each other as often. 

On the bright side, Arthur’s mouth was behaving itself; he hadn’t said anything he hadn’t meant to since the day he came back from Johannesburg. 

**NOVEMBER**

Of course, all his hard work went down the drain when he woke up one morning to find Merlin in his bed. 

To say Arthur was in pain would be an understatement. He felt like he’d fallen out of a plane without a parachute. His head was pounding, he was covered in plasters, and his hip hurt like hell. He remembered going to a concert with Mordred and some of their friends, and coming home, but nothing after that. He didn’t feel hungover, so it hadn’t been a bar brawl. Had he been in an accident? It was then that he turned painfully and realized someone was in the bed with him. 

Merlin lay curled up on top of the covers, wearing his Courtiers uniform. Arthur pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to make sense of everything. Merlin hadn’t been able to attend the concert with them because he’d been visiting his mum in Ealdor for the weekend, so the fact that he was wearing his work uniform… Either Arthur had been in a coma or Merlin had been called back into work. Arthur knew he’d been working a lot more hours since his promotion at the toy store, and on top of that, the holiday season was fast approaching.

The DVD menu for _The Empire Strikes Back_ was playing softly on repeat, suggesting Arthur had been conscious at some point and demanded they watch it; Merlin liked _Star Trek_ much more and would never watch _Star Wars_ of his own volition. 

Whatever had happened, Merlin looked exhausted and Arthur wasn’t going to bother him when he could find the paracetamol just fine on his own. He turned off the TV and DVD player and shuffled off to the kitchen to find some painkillers, the pain more overwhelming now that he was moving around. Merlin woke up a minute later when he was staring at the prescription bottle with his name on it, dated the day after the concert. 

“You crashed your bike,” Merlin told him, pulling the bottle out of his hands and handing him two painkillers and a glass of water. It was a bit awkward to hold everything, given one of his hands was completely bandaged. “It’s still at the hospital. Apparently you crashed it to avoid hitting a dog, and then rode it all the way to the hospital. You’ve had a concussion, which is why you can’t remember anything, I think.”

Arthur tried to rest his head in his hands, but a sharp pain ran up his arms when he put pressure on his elbows. Suddenly Merlin was handing him ice and helping him stick it in the waistband of his sweatpants, just over the huge bruise on his hip. 

“My head hurts,” he told Merlin. “How hard did I hit it?”

“Hard enough. Oh, I have…” Merlin pulled out Arthur’s mobile and slid it across the table. Arthur stared at it but couldn’t comprehend anything with the amount of pain he was in. 

When the painkillers finally kicked in and he could understand words again, he asked all the questions he’d been thinking earlier. “Why are you wearing your work uniform? How did we get here? Did you pick me up from the hospital?”

“Yes,” Merlin replied. “You had them call me so I came to get you.”

“I had...they didn’t call Morgana?” Arthur rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. Didn’t they call family when you were in hospital?

“No, but I texted her and she was there for a bit until I took you home.”

Arthur could feel his muscles relaxing and made himself stretch his neck, wincing as it cracked. “I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry...thank you for taking care of me.” 

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Merlin smiled. Merlin was such a good friend. It was too bad Merlin didn’t want to date anyone.

“Did you...did you come from Ealdor? Why are you wearing your work uniform?”

Merlin set a plate of toast, butter, and jam in front of him. “I was working yesterday morning. I went to the hospital straight from work.”

But— “Weren’t you in Ealdor? What day is it? Was I in a coma or something?”

“No,” Merlin sighed as if they’d been over this before. “Today’s Monday. I lied about being in Ealdor. I was here. I’m sorry.”

Arthur frowned, buttering up his toast slowly. “Why did you lie?” He hadn’t seen Merlin in ages, and now he was actively avoiding Arthur for some reason.

“It’s not important. It was stupid and it doesn’t matter.”

Arthur looked down to hide his frustration and realized Mordred had texted him. 

“Mordred’s coming over,” he informed Merlin.

“What?” Merlin looked up from his toast.

Arthur poked at his mobile and bit into his own toast.

“Now?”

“In a bit. He wants to know if I need anything. Do I?”

“Do you what?” Merlin asked, as if _he_ was the one with a concussion.

“Need anything?”

Merlin’s eyes roamed the kitchen. “You need more groceries. And some plasters.”

Arthur nodded and relayed the message to Mordred before starting on his second piece of toast. He was pretty proud of how well he texted, given that one hand was completely encased in plasters. 

After breakfast, Merlin took the ice packs away and helped him back into bed to rest before Mordred arrived. 

“Will you stay?” he asked, grabbing Merlin’s hand before he could return to the kitchen. He didn’t want Merlin to disappear again. 

Merlin pulled his hand out of Arthur’s grasp and stepped away from the bed. “I just have to put the butter and jam away. I’ll be right back.”

Arthur knew Merlin was avoiding the question and resolved to himself to stay awake until Merlin came back.

“Will you stay?” he asked again, when Merlin had crawled back into his bed. He turned on his good hip and pulled Merlin’s arm around him, hoping to make his point very clear. 

“I’m right here,” Merlin said soothingly. “Mordred will be here soon.”

“Will you stay?” he asked, sharper. He needed an answer. He needed to know—

“I – no, I can’t. I have to work this afternoon.”

“How convenient,” he mumbled into his pillow. Merlin settled himself in closer to Arthur, and Arthur drifted off into a dream where Merlin shared his bed every night, a dream made all the more real from the presence of Merlin’s arms around him and the steady beat of his heart at his back.

\--

When he woke, Merlin was gone and Mordred was in his kitchen making a pasta bake. Arthur limped up and wrapped his arms around his unsuspecting boyfriend, resting his head lightly on the back of Mordred’s neck.

“Hey,” he murmured, closing his eyes against the harsh light of the kitchen. “Thank you for coming.”

“Why didn’t you call me right when you got injured?” Mordred asked, sounding upset but not angry. He turned in Arthur’s arms until he could hug him back, and then pulled back to push Arthur’s hair off his forehead. Arthur vaguely recalled Merlin doing the same thing when he was resting. Or had that been Mordred before he fully woke up?

“I – I really don’t know,” Arthur replied. His head was still throbbing, even with his eyes closed. “I don’t remember. I don’t even know what happened, really. I woke up and Merlin was here.” He started to spread his hands in an ‘I don’t know’ gesture that turned into a wince as the movement pulled at the wound on his bandaged hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Mordred exclaimed. “I didn’t even ask how you were feeling. Do you need anything? Merlin said you won’t get your painkillers for another,” he checked the clock over Arthur’s shoulder, “hour or so.”

“Ice,” he said, pulling out of Mordred’s arms and sitting down at the table. 

Mordred helped him place the ice over his bruise and gave him a glass of water, flitting all over the kitchen in an effort to make Arthur more comfortable. Arthur grasped Mordred’s wrist when he came over a fourth time with a bag of plasters. It was less delicate than Merlin’s wrist, Arthur thought randomly, although he didn’t know how he knew that, since he couldn’t remember ever holding Merlin’s wrists. 

“I’m sorry, Mordred,” he apologized. “I don’t know why I didn’t call you when I was in hospital. Apparently I didn’t even tell the nurses about Morgana.” He cracked a grin. “They were probably in shock when she showed up claiming to be my sister.”

Mordred laughed, finally relaxing. “Figures you’d be a terrible patient. Remind me what you do again?”

“I’m not a _doctor_ ,” he protested. “I’m a _researcher_.” 

“A medical researcher,” Mordred reminded him, starting to unwind the plasters on his elbows. 

“I don’t have to deal with patients though.”

“Thank god for that,” Mordred said as he wiped gently at the raw skin on Arthur’s left elbow. 

“Dealing with patients has nothing to do with being a good patient.” Arthur spoke slowly, trying to follow the conversation. 

“Yeah but - nevermind,” Mordred sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

Once Arthur was settled back in his bed, Mordred climbed in behind him to spoon him. After a few minutes, when Arthur was on the brink of sleep, he heard Mordred whisper, “I hope this isn’t the thing that breaks us, like Lance said at the tarot reading.”

\--

“You recover from that rhino yet, Arthur?” Leon asked, laughing, when Arthur went into work the next week after having the stitches in his hand removed.

“Rhino?”

“You don’t remember? You called me after you left the hospital to tell me to cover for you, that you’d gotten trampled by a rhino.”

“Oh god. I don’t remember anything from that day. I can’t even imagine what else I said.”

“I hope Merlin taped you if you said anything hilarious.”

“Shit, I hope not.” He’d texted Merlin to thank him for taking care of him, but hadn’t asked about what they’d talked about. He figured they hadn’t talked a lot, but apparently he’d been lucid enough to call Leon and tell him he’d need a few days off.

 **Please tell me you didn’t tape me saying stupid shit while I was high on painkillers** , he texted Merlin.

 _ **Didn’t tape**_ , Merlin texted back. _**But I did write down the funniest things you said.**_

_**You told Leon you got trampled by a rhino. Don’t worry, I stole your phone and told him what really happened.** _

_****_

_****_ ****

**_Also you were upset about your ruined clothes, and took me seriously when I said they sacrificed themselves for you :’D_ **

**Please tell me that’s all** , he texted back.

_**You also asked if your bike was at the hospital because it needed surgery** _

“Thankfully, Merlin is a better friend than you and didn’t tape me,” he informed Leon.

“So he says,” Leon grinned. If he wasn’t in so much pain and they weren’t at work, Arthur would’ve tackled him. As it was, he simply narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to his phone.

 **Come over soon for thank you biscuits and video games with me and Mordred?** he texted Merlin. 

It was almost twenty minutes before he got a reply: _**Okay. let me know when.**_

\--

Despite the clues Leon and Merlin gave him, Arthur’s memory of the day of his accident had not returned by the time Merlin came over for his ‘thank you’ biscuits two weeks after the accident. They were uncomfortable around each other at first, the day of the accident sitting between the three of them undiscussed. Arthur knew Mordred was still upset that Arthur hadn’t called him when he was concussed and out of his mind. 

By the end of the afternoon though, when the biscuits were mostly gone, Merlin and Arthur were playing one of Mordred’s wrestling video games, and Mordred was egging Merlin on. 

“C’mon, c’mon, punch no-ohhh, get back up, get back up you gotta beat him! He’s almost done for, just get a good hit in!” Arthur could see Mordred practically leaning over Merlin’s shoulder from the corner of his eye. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” he complained with an exaggerated pout. Neither Merlin nor Mordred looked over at him though, and in Arthur’s distraction Merlin’s character almost got in his necessary hit to win the game. Arthur’s injured hand was cramping, the scab pulling tightly as he guided his character to dodge Merlin’s punches. 

“I’m just cheering Merlin on,” Mordred said innocently. 

“I’ve got it all under control!” Merlin replied, and Arthur could hear the grin in his voice.

Both of their characters were stuck in a headlock, but Arthur’s thumbs went lax as a memory returned to him. 

_“I’ve got it under control,” Merlin said into the phone, decidedly not smiling. He still looked beautiful, even in the grimy cab light. “I’m – yeah, I’m sure. I’m sorry. He’s just a little overwhelmed and confused and in pain and I just…” Merlin bit his lip and looked out the window, away from Arthur. “Okay. Bye.” He handed Arthur his mobile, jaw tight for some reason Arthur didn’t understand. “Why did you make me do that? Why don’t you want to see your own boyfriend?”_

“Aha!” Merlin crowed as his character flexed and pumped his fist, standing over Arthur’s prone and bloodied character. He handed off his controller to Mordred. “Winner plays me?” There was something off in Merlin’s grin, and Arthur wondered if it was because he knew how Arthur felt about Mordred; if Arthur’d said anything else incriminating about his relationship. 

** DECEMBER **

Arthur hated not remembering things. He liked being in control, being able to make informed decisions and monitor what came out of his mouth. Something had definitely happened on the day of his accident, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t remember. Merlin had been over again but nothing had triggered a memory. Merlin himself wasn’t completely comfortable in his presence, even when Mordred went to the loo and it was just the two of them, and Arthur was determined to figure it out. 

He’d googled how to bring back lost memories, and found that recreating the scene or scents or sounds could remind you of something you’d forgotten. Of course, he didn’t want to bring Merlin into his bedroom or re-skin his scabbing elbows and knees, so he was left with crossing his fingers and praying that a memory would reveal itself.

It was a Tuesday in mid-December when the next memory surfaced. Arthur had been on the Tube on the way home from work, thinking about what presents he would get for everyone, particularly Merlin. He wanted to give him something special, but was afraid of picking something that would make Mordred feel threatened by Arthur's relationship with Merlin. He still hadn't decided on something when he heard one of Merlin’s weird bands playing through someone’s headphones. 

_“It’s Florence and the Machine, it’s not weird,”_ came Merlin’s voice in his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the rest of the conversation. All he could remember was Merlin’s hair haloed in the bathroom light.

So he came home and sat on the closed lid of the toilet, hoping the rest of the conversation would come back to him. It didn’t. He started playing some _Florence and the Machine _on his phone, stripped down to his boxers and tried again.__

____

____

_”You’re lucky I love you because this is pretty gross,” Merlin said as he re-bandaged Arthur’s bloodied arms._

__

__

_“I love you too,” he’d murmured as Merlin washed off his hands, the bathroom light making Merlin look angelic._

_“What’d you say?”_

_“I love you, too.”_

Oh, fuck.

Hands shaking, he texted Morgana and shoved his head between his knees, trying to control his breathing. Shit shit shit shit shit. He’d– _Stupid_ mouth– Fuck. Merlin Merlin Merlin. Merlin _knows_. Oh god. _Breathe._ And he didn’t– Shit.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been like that, staring at his feet in an effort to stop seeing Merlin’s beautiful face behind his eyelids, thinking in circles, swirls, he knows he knows he knows–

“ _Breathe_ , Arthur, breathe. In.” Morgana breathed in exaggeratedly, “And out. C’mon, with me,” she grasped his fisted hands tightly. “In...and out. In...and out. Good.”

When he was finally breathing normally, she smoothed out his hands and stood up. He realized she still had her coat and boots on. “Stay here, focus on your breathing. I’m just getting you a glass of water.” She looked down at him, clad in boxers and nothing else, and added, “And a blanket. Breathe,” she ordered, before turning on her heel and leaving him to sit in front of a puddle of dirty snow-water.

Morgana returned a minute later, having finally taken off her coat and boots. She held a glass of water in front of him with the command to “Drink.”

She draped a blanket around his bare shoulders and helped Arthur up and over to the couch. He curled into himself, wrapping the blanket around him like Merlin had that day when all of this had started.

“Are you alright?” she asked gently.

“I…” The phrase ‘love Merlin’ was on the tip of his tongue but that would just make all of this more real and he needed some more time to process. It wasn't just a crush, it hadn't gone away even with dating someone else and never seeing him. This was _love_ , and he wasn't prepared. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” his mouth said, and for once he was glad it was back to doing things without his permission. 

“Right then,” Morgana stood up and picked a microscopic piece of lint from her jumper. “What kind of mindless telly do you want to watch? I’m going to make us some tea.”

Arthur didn’t so much as move his head as his sister marched off to the kitchen. He stared at the familiar armchair across from him, where Merlin had sat playing video games and laughing, all the while knowing that Arthur loved him. That his relationship with Mordred wasn’t as steady as they pretended. That Arthur was a terrible person for even thinking about dating Mordred. 

And what would happen now? Nothing had changed between Arthur and Merlin; just because Merlin knew Arthur loved him didn’t mean Merlin would magically feel the same way about him. He pulled the blanket tighter around him, trying to feel... _better._

__

__

_“What’s this going to accomplish?” Merlin said from behind him, with an arm pulled tightly across his waist._

_“Safety, I like looking at you.”_

_“You’re not looking at me.” Merlin shifted slightly on the bed, and–_

“Arthur,” Morgana said. “Breathe.” She placed a steaming mug in his hands. “It’s mint, focus on the scent and the feeling of warmth in your hands. It should relax you a little.” 

He looked up to thank her and saw the raw concern in her eyes. He owed her an explanation, after she’d probably dropped everything to help him. 

“I- I started– I remember parts of that day.”

She sucked in a quick breath. “Your accident?”

“Yes. No. Not the accident.”

Her brow furrowed. “Then what?” Suddenly she grinned. “Ooh, do you remember when you thought Merlin was selling you to me in the hospital?”

Arthur tried to smile at that, but judging from Morgana’s expression, it came out as more of a grimace.

“Arthur,” she sighed, crouching down in front of him. “I want to help you but I don’t know how.”

“Did,” he started. “Did you mean what you said? The bet?”

Morgana’s mouth formed a perfect circle for a moment, before she closed her mouth and stood up. “Yes. And,” she paused. “I’m sorry I made the bet if this is what’s come of it. I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I have to break up with Mordred.”

“You might want to put some clothes on first.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, and then walked over to his bedroom to change, taking the blanket with him. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

\--

Arthur spent the rest of his free time that week in his kitchen. The routine of measuring and mixing ingredients gave him time to be numb to the world and come to terms with his emotions. So, he baked. Normally when he needed to work through something, he would try to limit his baking extravaganza, but the fair was that weekend, and even though he’d already started baking for the fair before the breakup, Arthur knew he would be able to sell everything he baked. This was one of the busiest fairs, being only a week before Christmas.

On Wednesday Arthur made several batches of brownies and cupcakes while thinking about his relationship and breakup with Mordred the night before. He felt badly about using Mordred to get over Merlin, although Mordred said he’d had his doubts almost from the beginning, when Lamia mistook him for Merlin. 

The next night Arthur decided to make yule logs. They were a bit tricky, what with rolling the baked sheet cake without it cracking, but it would give him time to focus on something other than his love life. About an hour after dinner, Arthur had a few cakes in the oven to be made into yule logs, and was starting on both his buttercream and his analysis of the situation he found himself in. So he had told Merlin he loved him. Merlin had told him he loved him first, even if it sounded more like friend-love. “You’re lucky I love you” was such a casual phrase, with no weighty significance to it, unlike his own “I love you too,” said so earnestly Merlin couldn’t have taken it as anything other than a romantic declaration. 

As Arthur stirred the heavy cream and vanilla extract into his butter and sugar mixture, he thought about how he’d had the hospital call Merlin instead of Mordred or even Morgana. He was pretty sure that even concussed, he would have remembered that Merlin was supposedly visiting his mum in Ealdor, and if that had been the case, Merlin wouldn’t have made it in time to actually do anything. But he’d wanted Merlin by him when he was in pain, something even Mordred recognized as the beginning of the end of their relationship.

He measured out cocoa powder to mix into half of his buttercream, wondering how Merlin felt being called into the hospital. Was he uncomfortable with being the first person Arthur called when he was in trouble? Probably. He was uncomfortable around Arthur now, and most likely had been for a while, if he was making up excuses not to see Arthur even amongst friends. Worse, Arthur hadn’t even noticed Merlin was avoiding him, he’d just assumed Merlin was busy and reminded himself to get over his crush. 

Arthur wished he knew why Merlin had been avoiding him. Part of him hoped he’d asked Merlin while he was high on painkillers, and another part knew he wouldn’t be able to remember even if he did. Any responses to that question that he could think of would be more traumatic than the accident. 

His cake timer went off, and he busied himself for the rest of the night in rolling his cakes and forming his yule logs. 

When Arthur curled up in bed that night, another memory returned. 

_“You’re being ridiculous.” Arthur was holding Merlin’s arm tightly to his chest, Merlin trying to get out of bed._

_“I’m not.”_

_“Arthur-”_

_“Why won’t you cuddle with me?”_

_“You know I’m not your boyfriend, right?” Merlin’s face appeared in his field of view, a crease between his eyebrows as he looked concernedly and a bit sadly at Arthur._

_“You practically are,” Arthur’s mouth said._

Arthur mimicked his past self and pressed his face into his pillow, this time screaming in embarrassment and frustration. That memory, put together with all the others he’d remembered from that day...Merlin had to know Arthur loved him. 

Friday night Arthur baked biscuits. He'd already made some over the weekend, but they sold fast. In the middle of rolling out his gingerbread, he remembered the conversation he'd had with Gwaine around the same time Merlin started avoiding him.

"Are you free right now?" he asked as soon as Gwaine picked up. 

"E is coming over soon but they're not here yet. What's up?"

"Oh no, that's okay," Arthur told him. It was bad enough his love life was a mess, and E was perfect for Gwaine. The two had started dating around the same time Arthur started dating Mordred. Arthur had met E several times in the past few months and liked them a lot. 

"I have time, you know," Gwaine said. "E is probably on the Tube right now."

Arthur sighed. "Remember a while ago you said you would mention something to Merlin? What was it? Does it have anything to do with how he's been avoiding me?" 

"Ah. Yes," Gwaine answered, and Arthur held his breath. "I remember." 

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What did you talk to him about?" 

"We talked about Mordred, and what he thought of him."

"And?" Honestly, this was like pulling teeth. 

"And, he said Mordred seemed...nice."

"So he just didn't like Mordred." He could work with that. After all, Mordred was out of the picture, and Merlin would find out tomorrow at the fair. 

"I think," Gwaine hesitated. "I think he might have liked Mordred under other circumstances." 

"They only met a few times! I don't know what kind of circum- Well, it doesn't matter anymore, I broke up with Mordred." 

"That should help," Gwaine said mildly. "But I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Merlin is very stubborn. It might still be a while before you two go back to your strange ways." 

"I'm stubborn too," Arthur replied. 

"And don't I know it, Princess." Arthur heard knocking from the other end of the line, and Gwaine called out, "It's open!" 

"I should let-" Arthur started to say, and then there was the sound of a scuffle and Gwaine's voice saying lowly, "Careful." E was clumsier than Merlin sometimes, and Arthur had no doubt they'd just tripped over something on the way into Gwaine's flat. 

"Bye Arthur," Gwaine said into the phone, and the line went dead. 

Arthur sighed and returned to his biscuits. Making the dough was only half the battle with biscuits, and he would need to package everything up to sell the next morning.

\--

Arthur arrived at the fair early Saturday morning with his packages and platters of biscuits, brownies, and cupcakes, as well as the two Yule logs he'd made. He kissed Lance on the cheek in greeting and helped set up all of their tables in a row.

“Is it just me, or did you bake more than normal?” Lance asked as Arthur laid out his baked goods by flavor and set out a sign with prices. The table was packed and he still had leftovers that would sit next to him until he’d sold some goodies.

“It’s not just you,” he replied. “I, uh, I broke up with Mordred earlier this week. Needed to bake.” It’s not the first time it’s happened, where he baked more than normal after a breakup, but looking over his table again, he’s definitely gone overboard this time.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. Are you doing okay? Do you want a free tarot reading?” Lance asked.

“I’m alright, Lance, thanks.” He thought for a moment, and then added, “I will take a tarot reading, but not for free. Have to do my part, don’t I?” Lance and Gwen were saving money for Lance’s top surgery next month, and he knew they were hoping this month’s fair would be busy enough so they could have bit of a cushion in case there were complications.

“You don’t, but thank you. Do you want to start now or wait until we have a lull later?”

Arthur looked at his watch; chances were that Merlin and Gwen would be arriving soon, and he didn’t want to invite unnecessary questions about his life.

“Later, definitely. Thanks, Lance.”

When Gwen and Merlin arrived ten minutes later, he was glad he’d waited. They greeted each other with kisses on the cheek, and migrated to their own tables to finish setting up.

Luckily, what with the holidays coming up, the fair was quite busy, and Arthur didn’t have time to be nervous about talking to Merlin. The crowd didn’t keep him from noticing the way Merlin snuck glances at him when Arthur had a customer, or from sneaking glances himself whenever Merlin was busy talking to Gwen or Gwaine or a potential customer. The more he looked, the more Arthur realized that his subconscious was right: this was more than a crush. He loved the way Merlin’s eyes lit up when he saw someone he knew, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous or thinking about something. He loved the fact that Merlin’s ears stuck out even from underneath one of Gwen’s hats, and that his laugh carried well beyond Arthur’s table. He wasn’t able to watch Merlin for very long, however, as Merlin sold out rather quickly and went home early.

Arthur bribed Gwen, who had also sold out, with a batch of brownies if she would watch his table for him while he went to Lance for a reading.

“What do you want to ask the cards?” Lance asked quietly when he sat down. 

“I…I would like to know whether or not I should pursue a relationship with Merlin.” Surprisingly, it was easy to admit, that he would like to date Merlin. He’d barely been able to tell Morgana, who suspected it long before he did, but Lance was just easy to talk to. 

“Oh,” Lance said with a small smile. “Alright. You know the drill - think about your question as you shuffle.” 

Arthur returned his smile, took a deep breath, and shuffled the cards, thinking about how close he and Merlin were, how much he enjoyed spending time with him, and wondering whether Merlin would even want to date him. He couldn’t help but remember, as he had been for the past week, that Merlin was convinced he’d end up alone. 

“ _The Fool_ ,” Lance read as he flipped over the first card. “Since this position indicates how you feel about yourself,” Lance looked up quickly at Arthur’s intake of breath, “not what you think, it’s that you’re not happy where you are, and you need to make a change. _The Fool_ is about new beginnings, and taking a leap of faith, so to speak. Plus, there’s the whole ‘we’re all fools in love’ thing,” Lance added. 

Arthur relaxed a little. “So I should go for it. Although I suppose I should wait for the other cards to reveal themselves?”

“Yes, but _The Fool_ also tells us to acknowledge the fear we have about something and do it anyway. Remember that as we keep going. ”

Lance flipped over the second card. “Ah, we saw this last time you came for a reading. _The Tower_ in this position tells us that you’re looking for an easy solution and are likely to seize the next opportunity that comes up. The first two cards are telling you that even though you need to make that leap of faith, you should pick your timing carefully.

“The third card,” Lance said, “is _The Star_. This position is about your fears in starting a relationship. You’re afraid you won’t be well received, that he will reject you.”

“Obviously,” Arthur muttered. “Who isn’t?” 

Lance chuckled. “At least you know the cards are telling the truth. _The Star_ is a positive card though. In general, it represents hope and joy, the sense that you can do anything. So you have nothing to worry about on that front.” Lance looked him square in the eye and added, “He won’t reject you.”

The hope and joy that filled Arthur at those words was too much to contain. He threw his head back and laughed. He could do this. They could do this. The conviction in Lance’s voice wasn’t just because of the cards, it was his way of telling Arthur that Merlin returned his feelings. 

“Okay okay,” he told Lance, grinning. “Go on, what do the rest of the cards say?”

Lance grinned back and flipped over a card. “ _Death_. It’s a time of complete endings and new beginnings for you. The past won’t be holding either of you back. This is all good, but let’s see what forces are working against you.”

Arthur’s smile didn’t falter, still buoyed by the idea that Merlin loved him back. 

“ _The High Priestess_. She’s all about the subconscious and hidden information. Working against you, she represents your insecurities. If you follow your subconscious, your instincts, you should be okay. She also emphasizes compassion and empathy over competition, so that’s something to keep in mind as well. Any questions?”

“No, please,” he waved a hand towards the stack of cards. “What does the last one say? The one that answers my query?”

Lance chuckled. “The final card is... _The Hermit_. Your query was about a potential relationship with Merlin, and _The Hermit_ is about taking a break from the world to think and find yourself.”

Arthur frowned. “So we’re going to become hermits?”

“No, it’s more that you’re going to get closer to your true selves by being together. For now, take your time and think about your decisions. It kind of goes back to how _The Tower_ told you to take your time and plan carefully. You need time for introspection, and Merlin may need that as well.”

“So I need to acknowledge my fears, which probably won’t come true according to _The Star_ , and take time to both think and follow my instincts.”

“In a nutshell, yes. And if you want to talk to someone about it, just let me know.”

“Thanks Lance. I’m really glad you offered me a reading; I feel a lot better about this now.” He gave his friend a quick hug and headed back to his table to relieve Gwen. 

After the fair Arthur began to make his plan. Merlin always went to Ealdor for Christmas, but working in retail and especially at a toy store, he would be back to London on Boxing Day. Arthur decided to have everyone over for a holiday party on Boxing Day, and at the end he would give Merlin his present and- and something would happen. Everyone agreed easily enough, but Merlin, the only one whose presence he absolutely needed, was still set on avoiding him. True, Merlin didn't know that Mordred was out of the picture, but that was no excuse. It was the holidays, a time for family and friends, and Merlin wasn't going to get out of it easily. Finally, after promising mulled wine and pulling the ‘Please? I miss you’ card on Christmas Eve, Merlin agreed to attend after work that day.

\--

“So,” Gwaine said when he walked into Arthur’s flat on Boxing Day, “do you have a plan to woo Merlin yet?”

“Gwaine!” Arthur widened his eyes and glanced at E worriedly. He didn’t need everyone to know.

“Oh, love,” E said, patting him on the arm. “Everyone knows. It’s not a secret.”

“But–!”

“Relax,” E said, dragging him out of the kitchen. “From what I understand, everyone approves.” They tripped over the coffee table on the way to the couch, almost pulling Arthur down with them before depositing him safely on cushions rather than hardwood.

“That’s not- I’ve got to- You two are ruining my whole- Wait.” Arthur looked around suspiciously. “Where’s Gwaine? What is he doing to my flat?” He tried to get up but E held him down, their grip deceptively strong.

“You promised mulled wine, Arthur,” Gwaine called. “I’m just ensuring we have a merry party.”

Arthur gestured to the mishmash of decorations he’d put up around his flat: the fake Christmas tree in the corner with paper cut-outs of dreidels, electric menorahs in the window and a real one the bookshelf near the front door, Stars of David and manger scenes hanging from any available surface. “Are my decorations not enough for you?” he called back.

“Decorations do not a party make,” Gwaine said, stepping into the doorway with a suspicious looking bottle in his hand.

“Oh god,” he mumbled, defeated.

“It’ll be fine,” E reassured him. “Now tell me about this plan of yours.”

 _Saved by the bell_ , Arthur thought, as someone knocked on his door. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Of course, it was Leon, Percy, and Lamia, and they asked about it as well.

“Is the wine ready yet?” Arthur asked after five minutes of ‘it’ll be fine, Arthur,’ and ‘really, you don’t need to do anything differently,’ and ‘you’re already so good together.’

He ended up drinking more than he wanted to, because everyone who walked through the door somehow _knew_. To be fair, he had talked to Lance, Gwaine, and Morgana, and Leon, and oh god he’d talked to at least half of them and they all knew and if Merlin rejected him–

Elyan hugged him when they came in with their boyfriend and told him not to fuck it up by asking dumb questions about liking sex, and Morgana said something about him finally being happy while her date Mithian nodded, already knowing it was safer to agree with Morgana when she had that look on her face.

Merlin arrived last, looking tired from his shift at Courtiers. He, of course, came prepared with a superior playlist, as Arthur had known he would, and sat down on the couch after hugging everyone. Now that he was here, Arthur was getting nervous again, and beckoned Merlin into the kitchen almost as soon as he’d sat down.

“Mulled wine?” he asked Merlin, gesturing towards the pot.

Merlin nodded and leaned against the counter as Arthur ladled out two glasses of warm spiced wine.

“Thanks, it smells good,” Merlin said.

Arthur knocked his glass against Merlin’s. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Hanukkah.”

Arthur smiled and impulsively leaned in to kiss Merlin on the cheek before drinking.

They drank in comfortable silence for a minute, Arthur marveling in the feeling of just being with Merlin as laughter poured in from the other room. In that moment it didn’t even matter that the laughter was most likely aimed at him.

“How’s your mum?” he asked.

“Good,” Merlin replied. “She says hi.”

Arthur took a large gulp of his wine. “Well… I have your present. Don’t let me…let you leave without giving it to you.”

Merlin gave him a fond smile. “Are you drunk already?”

He held up a hand with a small space between his thumb and forefinger. “A little. I let Gwaine make the wine.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. Make sure you drink some water next. And there’s food on the coffee table. I made a few batches of brownies.”

Merlin nodded and looked into the other room. “Mordred on his way?”

“Ah – no. He’s… he’s gone.”

“Gone…home for Christmas?”

“No – gone. Gone… gone.” Arthur cursed himself for getting so drunk before having this conversation – his words weren’t working properly. Merlin wasn’t getting it. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”

“You’re not? Since when?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t anybody… nobody said anything. I stopped by your table at the fair last weekend and you didn’t say anything!” Merlin looked vaguely accusing but mostly lost and confused.

“You didn’t ask,” Arthur replied simply.

“I – no. I guess I didn’t.”

Arthur finished off his drink. “Anyway, it’s … yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I’d known. Are you okay?”

Arthur’s stomach tied itself in knots, knowing what he was going to do later that night. “I’m fine. It was just…you know, he was fun but he wasn’t the one.”

“Did you mean to rhyme?” Merlin grinned at him. “Is that your motto or something? ‘If he’s fun, he’s not the one?’”

Arthur laughed. “No, I need my one to also be fun, otherwise he’s definitely not going to be the one.” He realized his glass was empty and went to refill it, but Merlin stopped him.

“Water, remember?”

“Right.” He relinquished his glass to Merlin, who filled it with water and handed it back before taking another sip of his wine. “Thanks. Come sit with me?”

At Merlin’s nod, Arthur put his arm around Merlin and walked him into the living room. Now that Merlin had no reason to avoid him, there was no reason for him to sit across the room when right next to each other was perfectly fine. 

Merlin didn’t object as Arthur sat them on the loveseat together. He even reached up to pat Arthur’s hand, which was still on his shoulder, and in a move that was very suave if Arthur did say so himself, he turned his hand over and laced his fingers through Merlin’s. His heart felt so full he started laughing, using Percy’s terrible attempt at a jig as his excuse. He was using Leon’s cane and attempting to perform some sort of leaping move, but he'd already had a few glasses of Gwaine's mulled wine and had lost his coordination somewhere along the way.

He continued to sit next to Merlin as he caught up with his friends, watching everyone around him get progressively drunker. At some point during the night he leaned his head against Merlin's shoulder, and when that got uncomfortable, he lay down further, his head on Merlin's thighs and his legs over the armrest. Merlin started idly playing with his hair, and he closed his eyes and half-listened to the drunken conversations happening around him. 

Arthur opened his eyes when Merlin almost doubled over in tear-inducing laughter, only to find Gwaine and E falling over each other in an attempt at dancing. 

"No, you forgot the first part!" Gwaine yelled to E. He always did lose volume control when he was drunk, and it appeared E did as well, since they were shouting back just as loud.

Merlin laughed even harder at that, and Arthur took the opportunity to look up at Merlin. The man in question wasn't paying attention to Arthur beyond continuing to card his long fingers through Arthur's hair, and Arthur was able to watch unnoticed. Merlin was gorgeous. It had been a long time since Arthur had seen his friend this carefree, and it was a good look on him. He thought back to his tarot reading and hoped the cards had been correct. 

Suddenly there was a loud bang as Gwaine and E fell on top of each other, laughing. Everyone started clapping, and Arthur joined in, calling out “Inspired! Bravissimo!"

Gwaine staggered to his feet and offered a hand to E as well. They bowed clumsily together, gasping from their continued laughter. 

"That might be our cue to leave,” E said in a stage whisper. 

Gwaine wrapped an arm around E’s waist and bowed. “We bid you adieu.”

“Please tell me you didn’t drive,” Morgana said, and from his position on the loveseat he couldn’t see her but he knew the expression on her face. She’d given it to him before when she was trying to tell if he was lying. 

"Nah," Gwaine said easily, trying to retrieve his wallet while still holding onto E for balance and support. "Time to go neck in the back of the cab."

That meant it was time for Arthur to stop lazing about and be a host again. He rolled off Merlin's lap and to his feet to give Gwaine and E goodbye hugs. It appeared to be a catalyst because within moments everyone was group-hugging Gwaine and E. 

"Okay okay, we love you too," Gwaine shouted, trying to get out of the group. 

"Speak for yourself," E said from next to Arthur at the center. 

When the hug pile broke up, the various couples started sharing looks and reaching for their coats. Arthur noticed Gwaine talking loudly at Merlin across the room, but Morgana interrupted his attempt at leaving by giving him a hug and a whispered "Good luck." She and Mithian left soon after Gwaine and E, and Elyan and their date were next to hug everyone goodbye and head out the door. 

Lamia politely thanked Arthur for a lovely time, and went to put her coat on while Leon and Percy hugged him and took the opportunity to tell him good luck as well. Then they snuck up on Merlin, who saw them just a moment too late to do anything about the attack hug. 

Several rounds of hugs later, when Leon, Percy, and Lamia finally left, Lance helped Gwen into her coat and started asking Arthur questions about his menorahs. 

"I was admiring your menorahs, Arthur," he said, pointing to the mismatched electric menorahs on the windowsills. "Are they family heirlooms?" 

"No. Well that one is," he pointed to the traditional one on the bookshelf. "It was my mother's, and I believe her parents' before she was born."

"That's fascinating," Lance said, and the expression on his face said that he meant it. "So where did you get the electric ones? They don't look brand new." 

"I got them at car boots. I had so much Christmas stuff that my one lone menorah was becoming outnumbered."

At this point Merlin wandered over to give Lance another goodbye hug, and before he knew it Lance and Gwen were gone and he was finally alone with Merlin. 

"Do you want your present?" he asked as he locked the door. If all went well, he wouldn't need to unlock it before tomorrow morning. 

"I want to go first," Merlin said, stopping his playlist and unplugging his phone. He grabbed a bag near the door and pulled out a lumpy, squishy package, which he handed to Arthur. "I can fix it if it doesn't fit," he told him. 

Arthur ripped the wrapping paper off and grinned as a gorgeous burgundy jumper was revealed. "Holy shit," he said, holding it up against his chest. "I love it! Did you make this?"

Without waiting for an answer, because _of course_ Merlin made it, he dragged his friend to his bedroom to try it on. It was like a hug from Merlin himself and Arthur knew that even if Merlin rejected him, he would love the jumper to pieces. 

"Thank you," he told Merlin, giving him a long hug. "I love it. I can't believe you made it just for me."

Merlin squeezed him tight, and Arthur relished the feeling. It boded well for him that Merlin had made him such a personalized gift, but he let the hug stretch on to give himself some courage. 

“Do you want yours?” he asked. 

“I suppose it’s only fair.” Merlin pretended to be put upon but he was smiling. 

Arthur grinned and pulled the envelope off his dresser. This was it. He watched nervously as Merlin opened the envelope and pulled out the paper and Kilgharrah's business card. He’d thought about writing more down on the note, but ended up simply writing “IOU”. He was a little afraid that if he'd written down his feelings and intentions that Merlin would have run away without talking to him, remembering what Lance had said about caution and listening to his subconscious and all that. 

"Uh." Merlin looked at the business card, the note, and the envelope, clearly confused. It was adorable. “How drunk are you? Is this what you meant to give me?”

Arthur chuckled nervously. “I’m not – I haven’t had any more wine since you showed up. It’s...it’s for you. For a tattoo – a real one, if you want. I can set up a consultation and...I might have mentioned you already, and he has some ideas, so…” He wet his lips, not wanting them to be chapped when he kissed Merlin. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, staring stunned at the IOU in his hand. 

“I want to get this for you,” he said firmly. 

“You want to buy me a tattoo.” An eyebrow went up. 

"Yes – your first. If you want," he added. Oh god he knew he should've gone with something smaller. "Or I can just buy you a lifetime supply of temporary tattoos if you'd prefer. Or, I don't know, more yarn for jumpers, but-"

"Arthur, no. Tattoos are expensive. I can't accept this." Merlin held the IOU out but Arthur refused to take it. "We can make an appointment - I'll keep the business card - but I can't take this."

"You can," he insisted. "I want you to. I..." He waited for his mouth to take over as it always seemed to around Merlin, but nothing was forthcoming. "I...want you to."

Arthur closed his eyes, gathering courage before leaning in to kiss Merlin chastely. That would be much clearer than his jumbled words. 

He opened his to find Merlin stock still, gripping the empty envelope. “Uh… What–”

He pulled the papers out of Merlin’s hands and put them back on his dresser. “Can we talk?”

“We definitely should.” 

This wasn’t going according to plan. Merlin didn’t like his present and didn’t seem happy that Arthur had kissed him. He sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to keep his facial features in order, at least until they’d talked. He didn’t think he succeeded though. 

“I want to give us a try,” he said quietly. “I know there’s lots of reasons we haven’t done this but –”

“Yes,” Merlin interrupted him. “There’s – there’s lots of reasons. Arthur, you don’t mean this. Don’t do this – please.” 

If that was his only objection… He stood up and took one of Merlin’s hands gently. “I do mean this. I’m not drunk. I’m not clueless. I want you.” 

Merlin shook his head, looking miserable. “Please,” he repeated, stepping away from Arthur. 

“ _Compassion and empathy over competition...follow your instincts...take your time_ ,” Lance had said.

“Look, if...if you really don’t feel the same way about me, then you can tell me and we can move on from there, but…” He stared at Merlin, trying to convey that he was being sincere. Everyone he’d talked to, all of their friends, had been so sure it would work, that Arthur was doing the right thing. It had to be for a reason. He’d knitted him a jumper, which probably took Merlin months to complete.

Merlin covered his mouth with a hand and shook his head again. He looked as if he were about to cry. 

“All you have to do is say it,” Arthur whispered. 

“I can’t,” Merlin practically sobbed, dropping his hand from his mouth. “You know I – fuck, Arthur, you _know_ how I feel about you but we _can’t_ –” 

“So just try,” he interrupted, seeing his chance. He stepped forward and took both of Merlin’s hands in his own. “There’s no reason not to.” 

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but kept his hands in Arthur’s. “Are you really sure?” His voice was a bit strangled from the emotion that Arthur could read clear on his face. “I’m not going to be able to hold myself back if we do this and – are you really sure? I mean, I know you know this but do you really _know_ this? I’m not – I don’t hate sex but I’m never going to want it and maybe we can do it sometimes or like, twice, but I’d really rather not and you can’t just – you don’t want this.”

Arthur couldn’t help his smile. He knew exactly what he was in for, and now that Merlin had admitted that he wanted this, he knew he could win him over. Merlin scoffed and tried to pull away, but Arthur just pulled him in closer. 

“I do want this,” he said, his lips centimeters from Merlin’s. “I want you. I’m not saying there aren’t things to discuss and...obstacles to overcome, or whatever. I’m saying that I’m willing to face all that. You’re worth it.”

The blush his speech brought on was gorgeous. “Arthur…”

“Merlin.” 

Merlin bit his lip and looked down at their hands, clearly still hesitant. 

“Do you always make it this difficult?” 

“No, but I’ve never... never cared this much before.” Merlin finally looked up, his eyes locking onto Arthur’s. “I told you, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back if we do this.” 

“No,” he agreed. “I think we’re both past that point. And yes – I’m very, very sure.”

“You don’t think you’ll get bored in a few months?”

Arthur frowned. Why would he think that? “No. I’ve known you for years and you haven’t bored me yet.”

“Were you planning this all night?”

“Yes. What do you say?” 

“You’re...beautiful.”

Arthur laughed and hugged Merlin. "I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he said before pressing his lips firmly against Merlin's. 

Later, after more kissing and a little bit of talking, Arthur's mouth said, "You make my heart soar," and even though Merlin laughed, Arthur couldn't find it in himself to be upset about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Content tags/warnings for: concussions, memory loss, panic attacks, tarot readings, baking marathons, temporary tattoos, video games, religion, and queer characters.


End file.
